


Baby Blocks

by ScissorSheep



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Insanity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-30
Updated: 2013-07-30
Packaged: 2017-12-21 20:39:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/904662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScissorSheep/pseuds/ScissorSheep
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"The huge waves of memories and voices, murmurs that crashed against his skull and flooded his brain with their images, yielded not to his protests. If the memories and visions where tangible the freelancer would have already ground them into dust, they where a constant hot throb and fuzzy blanket in his mind. Just one minute... He was tired. Of screaming, of raking his nails into his own arm, of yanking his hair."</p>
<p>Agent Alaska helps washington find the baby blocks of his sanity that epsilon destroyed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Baby Blocks

**Author's Note:**

> THIS IS POSTED ON MULTIPLE SITES:
> 
> On DeviantART as Kohaku16, On Fanfiction as Dpreukssiya, And on Rvbfics as Dpreukssiya

Oh how we wished everything would just stop.

No amount of screaming or punching things would make the voices stop. The fucking voices in his head... Laughing, Screaming, Sobbing. If they would stop, Wash would be able to think for just a moment. He wanted just a moment, one FUCKING moment to collect himself. The huge waves of memories and voices, murmurs that crashed against his skull and flooded his brain with their images, yielded not to his protests. If the memories and visions where tangible the freelancer would have already ground them into dust, they where a constant hot throb and fuzzy blanket in his mind. Just one minute... He was tired. Of screaming, of raking his nails into his own arm, of yanking his hair.

Allison! Allison... Allison? ALLISON!?

"SHUT UP! Just leave me alone!" The voices continued, grinding, scraping their sharp nails against his ear drums.

They aren't real. They aren't real. The chip had been removed.

So why didn't he feel relief? The icy numbness that was Epsilon itself had been removed.

But no salvation.

Just the memories.

The memories of blue gray data as it fizzed and popped, unraveled and then? Blinding pain. Worse than being shot, worse than the pain of half a can of mace to the eyes. Worse than giving birth. Hell he didn't know but it was excruciating, White hot and so sudden. He was screaming and clawing anything in his reach, nauseous from the sudden pain and choking on... copper? Blood?

He remembered the beeping sounds of his vitals blaring and yelping at him, beeping with such an insistent cry. The lights where blinding him digging daggers into his soft and mushy he would imagine orbs. Shut up! He had been thinking over and over and over as Allison zig zagged through his vision and fluttered through his pain stricken voice. The melody of a bleeding bird shot in the throat. Like maine...

Wash clawed at his wrist over and over until red rivulets of blood dotted his tan skin. Copper. The smell was disgusting and thick reminding him of... And there it was again.

Remembrance.

Memory, everything burned so clear and sharp nothing had been forgotten. NOTHING. The nearest object was thrown and shattered the instant it hit the wall. It was a small kitten figure, galaxy black with stars littering it's fur. The cat she had given him. The cat he kept even though it wounded his pride. The cat he had grown so found of because it reminded him of her. Her galaxy black hair with deep indigo undertones always smelt of coconut and vanilla. Those bright blue ocean orbs that swirled with many emotions, bright as a nebula. He was intoxicated with rage and fear, which obviously carried him far.

Broken, just like his mind.

That was it. His head was shattered porcelain, shards that where being glued together in all the wrong ways. Shards that pricked the fingers of anyone who attempted to help. Copper... Again he felt his stomach lurch. Guilt clawed at his heart, piercing it's soft muscle with venom. He broke it. Just like everything else.

Like Allison, broken so many times and glued together again in all the wrong ways. Allison, Allison. Wash Grit his teeth together, ivory bones squeaking under the pressure of a slightly stubbled jaw. What a mess he was making of himself. NO not him. Epsilon, look at the mess he left behind.

If Wash was able to compare the pain he endured to anything else, he supposed it would be similar to an entire firework show blasting through his skull. Or more accurately, a bomb exploding his brain matter sanity along for the ride. A bomb that Epsilon had set. In some ways the freelancer wished the A.I. had crushed his spirit entirely, taken his will to live. Then he wouldn't be hearing those FUCKING voices. They played sharp and grating keys on the piano of his mind. Tore off the keys ripped them from their safe haven. Was living through this much pain honestly worth it?

He was loosing it. Loosing everything. Mainly his mind? Yeah he figured that was the most important at the moment. Was there a single shred of sanity left? He doubted it.

Grey stormy eyes closed as Wash's legs gave out, and the freelancer fell to his knees. There was a dull crack as his head connected with the hard wall. Dimly his brain registered the physical pain, veiled and almost masked by the excruciating mental throb of white hot pain. Almost. No matter what he did the presence of Epsilon burned bright. Even though the god damn chip had been removed. What made things worse was the fact that Wash had to put up a facade every day around his fellow freelancers. Especially around her. It was the hardest whenever he was around her. Whenever he was around Nebula, Agent Alaska. The slightest of smiles graced his lips as he thought of her, distracted by the memory of her scent, it was uniquely hers and hers alone.

Alaska received the A.I. Rho, the fragment of envy. Why was it that only his A.I. malfunctioned? A rather dark thought strolled through Wash's broken mind. Why hadn't the other A.I. committed suicide? Why his? Not that he wished such a fate upon her or anyone else for that matter, but still. Rage bubbled through his veins and crawled through the pit of his stomach.

Karma was a bitch. Not seconds had passed before Wash's mind started to cycle and sift through several memories at once. Again. He groaned loudly perhaps much breathier and desperate then he had intended as his head slammed back against the wall. The freelancer swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing. Even the sound of his own swallows where enough to send him into another fit of insanity.

Wash started rocking softly, head hitting the wall harder each time it connected with the wall. Perhaps his head would dent the wall rather then vice versa he thought dryly, Always had been told he had a hard head. Wash bit his lip sharply as another wave of memories wreaked havoc on his mind.

Save me...

The fuzzy feeling returned and his stomach lurched. Any attempts his body gave at upchucking where prevented by the fact that Wash had not eaten in two days. It was just bile that rose up. If it where possible, Wash was certain his body would upheave concerning quantities of bile. His head was swimming.

Wash? Wash, can you hear me? Wash!?

"Shut up..." He mumbled halfheartedly.

"Wash!"

"I SAID BE QUIET!"

Before Wash had time to process anything else a body landed against his own with a thump. Arms wrapped, curled around his shoulders and a tiny head nestled against the crook of his neck, he felt small rivulets of crystal tears as they fell onto his grey shirt. Nebula. His mind registered. Numbly he clung back.

"Wash..." She started, whispering into the nape of his neck her breath felt cool against his sweaty skin. "Wash... I knew that you weren't ok..." Her voice trembled slightly. She had never seen him so weak before.

"I came to check on you... Everyone is worried about you..." She nuzzled his neck softly hair cascading around both of them, breasts pressed lightly against Washington's solid, cut figure. Her thighs wrapped pleasantly around his waist, scent overwhelming the coppery tang in the air.

"I didn't want you to worry, you have training to do with Rh-" He was cut off by the gentle feel of her pastel lips against his chapped and swollen lips. Her lips felt amazing against his, small sparks of 'This is so right' danced through his shot nerves.

"Let me help you." She pulled away much to quickly for Washington, he wanted more of her touch. It was his salvation, It numbed the blinding pain.

"You don't have to fight it alone... I can help you find the baby blocks of your sanity, help you rebuild it. If you let me..."

That was all he needed to hear, Burying his face into the nape of her neck, the dams of his facade crumbled down.

**Author's Note:**

> I worked hard on this one and I know it was short but i figured short sweet and to the point. Let me know what you all thought :)


End file.
